Hurricane
by storminateacup7
Summary: When disaster strikes, help comes from the most unexpected place ...  No pairings. Rated T for horror.
1. Liechtenstein

Sealand was standing in a dark, shadowy room that looked like it had long a go crossed into a different world. It was the kind of place where baby – stealing fairies live, where the ghosts of tortured children sobbed silently in corners, and cobwebs become something altogether more sinister. There were cobwebs everywhere, Sealand mused. They draped over the things in the room, coating them so thickly that it was impossible to tell the objects apart. The only thing that wasn't obscured was the bed pushed up against the far wall, and the person on it. The figure on the bed sat up and smiled. It was now recognisable as Liechtenstein. Seeing somebody familiar in such a strange place was comforting, but Sealand just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

" Play with me." Liechtenstein's voice sounded strange, dry and rasp like it hadn't been used for years. Sealand took a step back on instinct, ice -cold fear stabbing him like a knife to the heart. Liechtenstein's smile faded.

" I said play with me." Liechtenstein rasped, taking a step forwards, her feet making clouds of dust swirl up from the floor. To Sealand's horror, as Liechtenstein moved, she changed. It was as if she had died on her feet, and kept moving. Liechtenstein's skin changed color, going from a healthy pinkish to a cold, dead, grey. Dark, thickening blood oozed from her palms as she reached out a hand towards Sealand. Her eyes rolled back in her head, leaving bloodshot orbs of white that bored right through Sealand's own blue eyes, forcing their way to his soul. Pure, searing terror rooted Sealand to the spot as the dead Liechtenstein advanced, her fingernails growing into talons, maggots moving beneath her skin, giving it the appearance of boiling syrup.

" Play with me, Thealand. We'll play the beth game." Liechtenstein lisped, maggots the size of Sealand's thumb boring holes though her tongue as she spoke. One her eyes popped out with a wet, meaty _shwluck_ and rolled across the floor, leaving a clean path in the thick dust. In the socket where it should have been, oversized white larvae waved like grass in the wind, rubbery bodies overlaping and writhing. Liechtenstein's skin was decaying, turning assorted shades of black and green before flaking away. Larger chunks fell off occasionally, landing at Liechtenstein's feet and sending up small, dusty mushroom clouds.

Sealand was so scared that he could hardly breath, and his heart was going at such a speed that it felt like it was about to burst. Fear was coiling through his body like spiked snakes of ice, making him shiver. Liechtenstein laughed, a hard, cold, cruel laugh that revealed rapidly sharpening fangs that were encrusted in old blood. Her rotting hands reached out for Sealand, ready to pull him into an embrace. Sealand managed to take a step back, only to feel a cobweb – coated wooden wall behind him. The micronation looked wildly around for means of escape, a door or a window he could dive through, but there was nothing but unyielding walls.

" We'll play the grown – upth game ..." Liechtenstein rasped, maggots pouring from her mouth. She reached out towards Sealand, pulling him close to her. Her new fangs grazed his neck, the old, dry blood of previous victims flaking off an landing in the tiny puddle of red that was forming on the near – white of Sealand's neck. The torn white fabric of Liechtenstein's nightdress brushed against Sealand's legs, making him shudder. Liechtenstein smiled a cruel, dark smile and red pooled across her remaining eye. Sealand had closed his eyes, but he could still feel Liechtenstein's decaying hand stroking his cheek, bone and half – rotted flesh rubbing at his face. He opened his eyes again, thinking that whatever he saw couldn't be worse then before. He was wrong.

All the maggots that had been feasting on Liechtenstein's flesh were burrowing out of her body and dropping to the floor with dusty pattering sounds, like rain. Sealand watched in horror as each one began to grow, twisting and writhing as it swelled and elongated until it was the size of a large snake. One of the demonic creatures opened its eyes, revealing spheres so black that they radiated pure evil. In those eyes Sealand could see the trapped souls of the tortured, drowning in death, their ghostly hands clawing uselessly at the underside of the maggot's eyes as the made futile attempts to escape their eternal prison. The huge maggot opened its mouth, showing rings of yellowed teeth. Those teeth looked like they were made for shredding, tearing things to pieces that would fit into the gaping black hole that was the maggot's throat. The rings of teeth began to spin as the maggot, along with many others, advanced on Sealand. Just by looking at Sealand the maggots were tearing his flesh away, sucking it towards their mouths.

808

**O.O … I even scared myself … EVERYTHING WILL MAKE SENSE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER, I PROMISE! (and probably not be as scary) I will only update if you review, though. **


	2. Eris

" And over to Carol, who has our latest update on Hurricane Eris." The newsreader said as the scene on screen switched from inside a studio to a lady standing in what seemed to be a gale.

" The Hurricane has finally gone off the British coast, after leaving seventy dead and many more injured-" The new woman said. England sort of smiled and frowned at the same time. He was glad that the hurricane was finally gone, but sad that so many people had died. Still, it could have been worse. Hurricane Eris hadn't actually done too much damage, in hurricane terms.

" -And destroyed Sealand, an offshore former naval fort." The woman on tv finished her sentence. There was a splash and a crash as the china teacup fell from England's hand.

Milliseconds later, England was racing up the stairs towards the room where Sealand was sleeping, terrible scenes flashing through his head. Most of them included blood. England flung open the door, expecting to see something that belonged in a horror film. To his surprise, nothing seemed to be wrong. Sealand was in his normal sleeping position (curled up in a ball beneath the blankets) and it was obvious that the micronation was breathing. England padded across the floor in his socks and pulled back the blanket. Then he could see that there _was _something wrong, very wrong. Blood was soaking through Sealand's pyjama top, staining the fabric red. Sealand had sank his teeth into his lip in multiple paces, and his hands were in such tight fists that the micronation's fingernails had dug deep into his skin, and blood was seeping out from between his fingers.

" Sealand?" England said softy, gently shaking the micronation's shoulder. " You need to wake up now." Sealand flinched at the older nation's touch, opened his eyes and burst into tears.

" Li – Li -Li ..." Sealand sobbed, unfurling his fists and wringing his bloody hands.

" It'll be alright." England muttered, pulling the younger nation into a hug. " Everything will be alright." England didn't even know where the words had come from. They certainly weren't true. Hurricane Eris had completely destroyed Sealand. England was still surprised that the micronation wasn't dead yet. Without land, there couldn't be a nation.

Sealand's sobs slowly turned into sniffles. The rain beat a steady rhythm on the window as the fear in the room ebbed away. Then the phone down the hall began to ring, shattering the moment.

808

Twenty minutes later, Sealand, bandaged and in fresh pyjamas, having a conversation over the phone with America.

" Hey, Sealand! I totally know what a hurricane feels like, 'cause of Katrina and whatever. SO, I, the hero, am prepared to save you, the hapless civilian at any point!" America pretty much yelled down the phone.

" Um … thank … you?" Sealand's voice was much softer than usual.

" I'll come see you in person sometime! Heroes ALWAYS visit sick kids!" America shouted cheerily

" That's kinda unnecessary …" Sealand murmured. His voice had gone down several more decibels and was beginning to dwindle away. Sealand could hardly speak, and when he did it felt like a cheese grater was rubbing up and down in his throat, the skin being shredded away, blood flowing...

The phone in Sealand's hand clicked, then began to morph. It grew, spreading and thinning like butter. For a moment, the plastic warped over Sealand's eyes, and when it was gone, he was in a completely different world. The ground was an endless expanse of dark mud, and the sky was the dull, redish – brown color of dried blood. The air reeked of decay, the hot, dead, dry wind blowing the awful scent into Sealand's face. Something swooped over the horizon, dark and threatening. Ominous music drifted through the air, being played by a non-existent orchestra. The dark shape flew closer, bubbling and stirring like boiling blood. Every now and then, the creature's shadowy skin would break, releasing a cloud of black dust. As the blob came closer, it began to take shape, limbs forming from the darkness. By the time it hit the ground, it was in the shape of a huge, translucent black dog. The monster stood less then a foot away from Sealand. It was almost to big for Sealand to comprehend, towering above him at nearly the hight of a double – decker bus. The immense beast opened it's mouth, showing rows and rows of blood – tipped fangs. Then it howled. The howl was less of a sound and more of a feeling, a too – deep – to - hear rumble that echoed of the sky itself. The demon dog turned to face the horizon, and howled again. Sealand could see through the beast's skin and into it's stomach, where the half – digested head of a small child stared back at him with dull, dead eyes. The rest of the carcass was scattered throughout the body of the demonic dog. Sealand gasped. The body bits were growing closer and closer together! One arm managed to reform entirely. Sealand's eyes widened as it reached for the other body parts, dragging them through the acid to piece them together like a jigsaw puzzle. The child's body was almost reassembled when it reached out for the head, tiny hands groping about blindly. Seconds later, the child was standing, hands stretched above her head. She grasped to handfuls of shadow and pulled them in opposite directions. The effect was catastrophic. The demon's skin split, tearing like tissue paper. A thick, black liquid poured from the torn edges, soaking the undead child as she emerged, clawing at the shadows. She leapt off the demon's back, landing on her tiny feet. She melted into a form of dark, becoming more than darkness. Darkness is nothing more than the absence of light, she was different, an endless void. She was made of a million years worth of deaths, the sorrows of billions who had lost parts of their life. Sealand wanted to run, but he was rooted to the spot. Literally. The soles of his feet and the bottoms of his shoes were melting into eachother, stretching into tentacles, burrowing deep into the heat – baked ground as the demonic death child advanced, opening her mouth to show no teeth or tongue, just shimmering pink flesh. She began to speak, her voice high in pitch but low in volume.

" You." she said, pointing towards Sealand. " You _let_ them come. I was their victim, so you shall be MINE!" with those words, the demon girl launched herself at Sealand, sailing though the air and latching onto him. Her slimy, toothless mouth attaching to his chest, somehow sucking blood out like a leech. Non-existent teeth peirced his skin, going deeper and deeper, needles of glass on a course for his heart.

808

**Have you worked out what's happening yet? If you have, review! If you haven't read on 'till you do! **


	3. Scarf

Sealand stared out of the window at England's back yard. What was usually grass and plants was now a small sea. The bottom was out of sight and the grey light filtering through the clouds glinted off the little waves on the huge puddle's surface. It looked just like the real ocean, six miles off the coast of Suffolk. Sealand smiled. He remembered being H.M Fort Roughs, when Land had been nothing but dark shape on the horizon, when the sound of the sea was a lullaby, when war was all he knew. Sealand padded downstairs barefoot. He opened the back door and stared at the water. The micronation stood there for a moment, ignoring the cold wind that blew right through his pyjamas and ruffled his hair.

Sealand took a deep breath and waded out into the water. Instantly, any fear left over from his nightmares melted away. He could feel the rainwater lapping up against his shins like the Sea did against the steel towers of his fort. The rain made a strange sound on so much water, creating a low, comforting, hum. Sealand remembered that sound, it had been one of the first things he had heard. It had been a background noise during the war, one of the few sounds that hadn't had anything to do with fighting. Sealand could remember sitting cross – legged on platform of the fort, staring in amazement at the pictures that the men working there had brought him. Sweeping fields of golden wheat, huge forests, rolling green hills dotted with flocks of sheep. Sealand knew that those places existed now, and he had seen them with his own eyes, but back then they had been the stuff of dreams. Concrete, steel and water had been the world. Food of any kind had come in cans, and they had come on boats from the same place as the pictures.

Sealand waded back inside. As comforting as the water was, it was still absolutely freezing.

The doorbell rang, a tinny string of notes vaguely resembling ' Rule Britannia' drifting through the air. England appeared out of nowhere in a puff of magic smoke - probably from the dark, enchanted recesses of the basement - and opened it.

" Greetings, comrade." said a voice. Even with England blocking his view, Sealand new perfectly well who was at the door. Russia.

" I have brought gifts for Sealand. You will let me give them to him, da?" Russia said. Russia's voice sounded different, less threatening than usual. England sidestepped out of the way. Russia stepped inside. He smiled and handed Sealand a bouquet of sunflowers.

" This is my first gift to you. My second is these." Russia said, holding out a box of chocolates. "And as my final gift …" Russia stopped speaking, unwound his scarf an wrapped it around Sealand's neck. The huge length of woven wool wrapped around Sealand's neck four times before the ends lifted off the floor.

" Why did you give this to me … ?" Sealand asked, muffled slightly by the scarf.

" It makes me happy. I gave it to you so it could make you happy. It makes you happy, da?" Russia answered. Sealand nodded, unsure of what to think. On one hand, the scarf was Russia's most treasured possession. On the other hand, it was from _Russia_. Russia, the pipe - wielding manic who tortured the baltics daily and terrified everyone else. Could he really accept this gift?

" Thank you, Russia." Sealand's voice was calm. The micronation hadn't expected to say those words, he was surprised to hear them, as if someone else had spoken what he had been about to think.

" You are very welcome, little comrade." Russia ruffled Sealand's hair, the force of his hand enough to make Sealand's knees buckle. Sealand buried his face in the coils of Russia's scarf and inhaled. He hadn't been sure what to expect, vodka maybe, but the smell was _heavenly._ It smelled like hot cocoa in winter and sea – salt spray. Like daffodils and snowdrops, and that fresh smell spring rain leaves behind. Chocolates on valentines day and Easter egg dye, of pancakes and bacon and fresh scrambled eggs, Of summer evening air and scented candles, of that smoky smell that hangs in the air after fireworks. It smelled like roast turkey and pie and spices, Autumn leaves and cinnamon apples and pumpkins. It was _wonderful. _

808

**short chapter, I know. Sorry. Also sorry that it took me so long to update, my life kinda got in the way. Review, or I will not update, M'kay?**


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